Old Faces
by ASIG
Summary: Four months after Tess left, Isabel Evans is walking to the grocery store when she sees someone she never thought she'd see again - Alex Whitman. This only the beginning so please R&R.
1. The First Encounter

"Isabel," I heard my mom say softly as she knocked on my bedroom door. I was barely awake and too tired to face the day just now. "Isabel!" she said, opening the door and coming into my room. "Honey," she told me, "you're going to be late for school."

"Mom," I told her, "I had a dream about Alex last night." I began to cry.

"Listen," she told me, trying to comfort me, "I know you miss your friend, but you have got to try to start healing. It's been four months." 

Mom, she tried hard to comfort me, normally she could, and maybe in this instance she could too. But I couldn't tell Mom everything. Alex should have been happy, would have been happy, if it were not for Tess. He didn't kill himself, she killed him, and then she just took off to go home. Home, I don't even no where this "home" of mine is. And then there's Tess, gone after killing Alex, who I so deeply cared about. I'm here supposed to be mourning the loss of my boyfriend, which I do, but also the loss Tess Harding, my friend. Tess was not dead, but she was gone, and it was expected that her friends would be sad, but how could I be saddened by her loss. The feelings I have towards her scare me. I don't think I've ever felt so much hate in my entire life, and it's all directed towards one person. I couldn't tell Mom the truth though, Max wouldn't have it, and since she didn't know everything, her words were of little comfort to me.

"I know," I said weeping away, "it's just so hard sometimes. Mom, I can't go to school today."

"You've already missed five days this year," Mom said worried, "and you've only been in school a month."

"This is the last time," I said assuring her, "I promise."

"Okay," she said to me reluctantly. Mom was always so understanding. I often forget that she isn't my real Mom, that I have someone else out there somewhere. "Look," she continued, "I need to get going to the doctor's, but if you're going to stay home again, you might as well do something to help your mother. Could you go get the groceries? I'll leave the list on the kitchen table."

"Sure, Mom," I told her.

I was walking down the streets of Roswell on my way to the grocery store, when I saw a very familiar face up ahead. At first, I couldn't believe it, but I kept looking at him, and I was positive, it was Alex. Then, I wondered if I was having another daydream. I closed my mind, trying to clear away everything that might not be real. I looked up, and he was still there. I ran toward him – not letting myself think of how eerie this situation really was.

"Alex!" I called, but he didn't seem to hear me. I started to panic, why wasn't he answering me? Regaining some of my composure, I calmly told myself that maybe he was just too far up the street to hear me. I ran closer, "Alex!" but he still didn't respond. I finally ran up to him. I grabbed his shoulder and he turned around to face me. "Alex, it's really you!" I said, in awe of the sight before me. There was no mistaking it; I was looking into Alex's eyes. He just stared at me, though, expressionless. It's like he was just a shell, with no feelings, no memories, and no thoughts. After several minutes he stepped around me and walked off, leaving me traumatized there in the street. I walked over to the curb, sat down, and let all my emotions and feelings for Alex pour out with my tears. It would be several hours before I could bring myself to wipe my eyes, and get up. I did, eventually, and got Mom's groceries.

I sat at home and waited. For a while, my mind was unable to figure out why, but as it turned out, I was waiting for Max. He came home from school at the usual time, and I went up to him. I wondered if I should really tell him, if he could believe me. I had to tell someone though, and I knew that this wasn't a dream, it was real, I was sure of it.

Max was not so impressed; I could see it in his eyes. He told me that, "Alex is dead, Isabel. You could not have seen him. Are you sure you didn't just imagine this?"

"Max," I pleaded with him, begging for him to believe me, "I know this was real. A dream, a vision, they don't feel this way! I saw him."

"We'll talk about this more later," Max said calmly, "once you've had a chance to think more about what you're saying."

That night I didn't get much sleep. I just thought about the encounter over and over. I decided that it was real, and that, although, whoever, or whatever I saw looked like Alex, it couldn't have been him. Alex would have recognized me, talked to me. It wouldn't be until later that I discovered what my meeting with Alex really meant. 

When I finally got myself to go off to sleep I had told myself that I needed to get Alex out of my head. I couldn't deal with the pain of losing him, and that wasn't going to be getting better. I had to just block him out, and get on with my life. A part of Alex wanted to linger with me – in my heart. For some people that would be just fine, but I couldn't live a sane life with Alex there. At that point, I tried to forget about my feelings for him, forget about that run in on the street. Even now, I try to just let him go and drive forward with my life. The truth is, I just can't handle the sadness, and loneliness Alex's death brings upon me. I can't face it, so I must ignore it. So far, it has worked, and I'm finally starting to live again. Some ghosts stay buried forever, and their graves can't be dug up unless we let them – I hope…

**__**

To Be Continued


	2. Alien Conspiracy

What happens next in this story of mine, I remember quite vividly. I was at the Crashdown, sitting with Max, Liz, and Maria in a booth. We were talking about something… Okay, that I don't remember. However, I do remember what happened when we were interrupted.

Valenti came walking in the door, looking as if he had just seen a ghost. How could I have known at the time that he did see a ghost, I don't know. The look on his face, though, it was urgent, like he was losing control. It scared me. I mean, he is supposed to be the grown up here. As a kid, you always think that grown ups are the ones who are all taller than you are, and have it all together. The feeling I had, it was sort of similar to how you feel the first time you see your dad cry. I will always think of this man as Sheriff Valenti, the indestrutable leader of the Roswell Police Force. Seeing him spooked out so to speak was bound to give me an unsettling feeling. As it would turn out, after he told his story, that unsettling feeling of mine would get worse.

"Max," he had said, "you're not going to believe this! I don't know who else to come to. I was driving in my car, when I thought I saw someone, David Sanders, a friend of mine from years ago. I didn't know what to think, so I pulled over on the side of the street. I got out of my car, and I chased after him. I called his name, but he didn't respond. I stopped him, confronted him, and asked him flat out, 'Dave, how can this be? I was there when you died.' Then things got really nuts, Max! He glared at me with fury, a fury I never saw in Dave before. After that he punched me the in the face! He went off and ran around the street corner. I was a bit slow getting up, the last thing I expected the guy to do was give me a good sucker punch. Anyway, I got up and ran around the corner to confront him again, and he was gone. I looked everywhere, above, on the buildings, he couldn't have gone inside anywhere without me seeing him. He just disappeared."

Max just looked at me, I knew what he was thinking. He was sorry that he had doubted me, I could read that off his expression. Max was also concerned. Two of these old (and very much dead) friends spotted within days. Max broke away from my eyes, and talked more with Valenti.

"Are you sure," Max was asking him, "that it was your friend? You're positive that you weren't mistaken?"

"Max," Valenti said, "I know what I saw, and I can tell you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I saw Dave Sanders this morning. It was him, Max, in flesh and blood, and that's not possible because I know he's dead. I can't explain it, but I know what I saw."

Max at looked at me again. I looked him in the eye for a moment, but then turned away quickly. _How could this be happening?_ I was thinking to myself, _how can any of this explained?_ At least Max would believe now, but I was just starting to come to terms about how not to deal with my experience. One thing was certain: something strange, something new was happening in Roswell, New Mexico, and it scared me. I wanted to know what ever happened to our normal lives? Things used to be different. I remember a time when there wasn't some intergalactic crisis brewing every other week, and I miss that. I've been missing that ever since Max had to go and rescue Liz Parker, his damsel in distress.

Max continued his conversation with Valenti, "Isabel came to me a few days ago, she was convinced she had run into Alex on the street. I dismissed it, thinking she was acting on an overactive imagination. Now I'm not so sure."

Valenti looked at me, "He didn't recognize me either," I told him. Valenti stepped back a bit. It was so easy to see that a chill had just ran down his spine, it was probably the same chill that ran down my own spine when I heard him describe seeing his old friend.

Max was concerned, "Two credible people with the same story, we can't just dismiss this."

"And what if it's not just us?" Valenti said, chiming in again, and everyone was very attentive because we knew that he only spoke up when he had something important to say. "The real question is: how do we explain all of this?"

"I don't know," Max said, a deadly earnestness about him. He stated it so plainly. It was frustrating for us aliens, being involved in all of these major events, and being unable to come up with all the answers. You watch these TV shows like Star Trek and Superman. They always seem to know what's going on, and what to do. Real life doesn't work that way, though. We aliens have always had questions, ever since the day we came out of those pods. We've learned a lot, but there is so much more we need to know. The humans always act like everything involving aliens is our fault, and it's our responsibility to deal with it. I guess they're right, but the problem is, more often than not, we don't know how to deal with it anymore than they do. I can imagine that's the hardest for Max, being the leader and all. He's supposed to lead us, and we're supposed to follow. Max tries, but he doesn't know where to lead us. In the past, I've been frustrated by this, but now I think we both understand things better. We have to make our decisions together because that's the safest way – the best way. "This is too far out there," he added.

Maria and Liz stayed there of course – at the table, never budging. They were listening, anything to pick up the latest gossip, but they could only tell each other, so I don't why they were so into it.

"Wait," said Maria, speaking up at last, I hadn't known she could stay quiet that long, "are you saying that this involves aliens somehow?"

"I don't know," Max told the little group, "but how else can we explain what's happening?"

I had been looking down. Before, I would have also been curled up into a ball of fear, shaking and emotionally unstable. I felt much better at this point; I was just sitting there absorbing the situation. Looking down, and thinking about everything I had just learned. What Maria said, though, it triggered something in me. I had been just wondering what it was, it never occurred to me that it was more aliens. 

My head shot up, "Shapeshifters?" I wondered.

"Shapeshifters?" Max asked, "what, like Nasado?"

"It's a horrifying thought I know," I told him, sounding maybe too eager because I was convinced I was on to something, "but what a great way to try to attack us, with shapeshifters. We'd have no way to tell who is who. Besides, with Kavar and Tess and the rest of our enemies, there's no shortage of reasons why we'd have shapeshifting aliens here."

Valenti had been standing at the edge of the booth, with his hands on the table leaning in as a part of our intimate conversation. I can't help but to wonder sometimes what the other customers at the Crashdown were thinking. He took his hands away, and stood straight up, "Now hold on," Valenti said, "why would they take on the identities of people who are dead? That's a bad way to keep things discrete, it doesn't make any sense."

"I think Valenti's right," Max said, "besides that, how did they come here? Travel between our worlds isn't easy."

"What are you going to do, Max?" whimpered Liz. That drove me crazy, she's so weak and so pathetic sometimes. 

"I think we should just wait," Max decided, typical Max orders. _We'll just wait and see if the big bad aliens will come and hurt us._ Michael really hated this about Max, and it didn't exactly give me a very comforting feeling. When signs pointed to trouble brewing, Max always wanted to step back and watch. If we did something, anything, but take some sort of action, at least I'd feel like we were helping ourselves. "We can't rule anything out at this point, and we can't be certain of anything either. Let's see what happens from here."

"Good idea," Valenti said, obviously approving, "now you'll all be keeping your eyes open. Report to me if you have another one of these sightings. In the mean time, I'll do some digging around, see how widespread this thing is. Hopefully, we're just looking at a few isolated incidents here."

Valenti walked out, and our table fell silent. We all had gone off into thinking. I couldn't tell you exactly what Liz, Maria, or Max were thinking. Only that I was thinking how I wouldn't be able to rest until this situation was settled. I mean, how was I supposed to just go on with my life knowing that I might see a person I knew, supposedly dead, but walking around alive? It's a chilling feeling, and one could really freak out by dwelling on it too long. That could have happened to me, but events were moving too fast to give me the time to think in-depth about ghosts and shapeshifters.

The silence at our booth did not last long. I looked up as I heard the door open, I expected to see a customer coming in. What I saw shocked me. It was Valenti, but something was strange about him. He carried himself in a different manner; he was not nervous and awestruck. He stood up proud and tall, although his face was expressionless. His clothes were different too. In fact, I think that's what was strangest about him. He was wearing his old policeman's belt with the gun in its holster, the gun they took away. He also had his old brown jacket on, with his badge pinned onto the jacket, glistening in the Crashdown's lights. He wore his cowboy hat, which he hadn't worn forever, and entered the café with a pair of sunglasses on. He was reaching to take them off as he walked in.

"Sheriff?" I said quietly to myself.

I don't know what it was exactly, the way I said it, or the expression on my face. It got the attention of Max, Maria, and Liz, though. They too turned around to look at Valenti. So we all got to stare at this strange sight, for about two seconds. Then, Valenti just disappeared. It really got to me; he had just vanished, vanished into thin air.

**__**

To Be Continued


	3. Setting a Trap

We were all shocked by it. What possibly could have happened? We just sat there, looking at the door for about a minute. It was Max who would make the connection.

"We have to go," he said, and jumped out of the booth, running towards the door. We all followed, but were not sure what Max was getting at.

Outside, Max looked both ways. Down the street, we saw Valenti kneeling on the sidewalk with a stranger standing over him.

"What's going on here?" Max demanded.

"It's okay," said Valenti getting up, "I was crossing the street when a car came blazing by. Thing must have been going a hundred miles an hour! I would never have made it if this guy hadn't pulled me off the road. Sir, I owe you my life."

"I was glad I could help," said the stranger, and he walked off.

"You're all right?" Max asked him. My brother, he was always concerned for his people. Although Valenti wasn't technically one of his people, many times I have gotten the impression that Max has forgotten this.

"I'm fine," said Valenti, "but what caused you all to come running out here? It's as if you knew I was in some sort of trouble."

"That's because we did know," Max told him.

Valenti stared at my brother with a look that begged more. So, I continued with what Max was saying, "We saw you in the Crashdown. You walked in, and seconds later, just disappeared. You looked a lot like the other people who we spotted as dead."

"Well then" Valenti said, "I think we may have a lead. In this near crash right now I saw a guy, a guy I saw when I saw Dave too. Even if these strange things weren't going on, he'd still look like a suspicious character."

I racked my brain trying to think back to my encounter with Alex. I tried to remember all the people around us, and then it came to me. "A man," I said, "with black trousers, a brown trench coat, and a gray hat. Wearing sunglasses too. He's the one isn't he?"  
"That was my thought," Valenti said, "it seems he was present at all three incidents."

"Always distant," I said, "he was there, but not too close."

"Yes," said Valenti, "exactly. I think we are talking about the same guy."

"So," said Max, "then how do we find him, and how is he connected to the sightings of dead people walking the streets of Roswell?"

"Woah!" said Valenti, "let's take this one step at a time. The first thing we should do, is head down to the Police Station. Isabel and I will both have artists draw up the man we think we saw. Let's make sure it really is the same person, the last thing we need is to hunt down an innocent man who has nothing to do with this. If and when we confirm that we've seen the same man in all 3 mysterious incidents, we will make an attempt to locate him, and ask him a few questions." Valenti was a great person for us to have as an ally. When things would come up, we teenagers would have the tendency to become frightened and panic, but Valenti was always calm on the exterior, and was able to always act rationally.

At the police station, I emerged with the sketch of the man I saw. I went into over to Max, Valenti, Maria, and Liz. 

I handed my sketch to Max who was holding Valenti's already. "They look the same," he said, "almost identical."

Part of me didn't like having anything to do with this strange character. Only a small part though. I was more happy, happy that we were finally doing something, taking the action I was longing to take.

"Now how do we track him down?" I asked. Naturally, we all looked to Valenti for the answers.

"I don't know," he said plainly, "if I were still Sheriff then maybe I could get a search going for this guy, but…"

"…But your not Sheriff anymore," Max told him. Max didn't like to talk to Valenti, to me, to anybody about what happened. He always felt that it was his fault that the Sheriff was fired. I have to admit; I still feel the guilt over the Sheriff losing his job. That's what he'll always be to us, the Sheriff of Roswell – it didn't matter what anyone else told us because we knew he wasn't a bad police officer. He was the best. He never blamed us for what happened, but even if I don't accept blame myself, and if Max doesn't accept full blame, the fact is that the Sheriff would still be the Sheriff if we were never here.

"No," said Valenti, "I'm not the Sheriff anymore."

"I have an idea," said Maria, drawing everyone's attention, "what if you set the guy up? You could get Michael to help you and then you three aliens as well as Valenti could wait on all four sides of an intersection while Liz and I walk through."

"What makes you think something like this will happen to you?" I asked Maria, the skepticism obvious in my voice.

"Liz and I were just as close to Alex as Isabel. I'm sure we'll see him on the street," Maria told us.

Valenti put in his input, "We don't know if the sightings correlate in anyway to how well we know the person. For all you know, you've seen 10 people on the street today that should be dead, but you never knew them. There's no guarantees here."

"It's the only idea we have," said Liz, "besides, you wouldn't have to be looking for the dead guy, only this person," she said holding up one of the sketches, "what else can we do?"

"It's worth a try," Max decided.

The first thing we had to do was fill Michael in on the situation. He was briefed and Maria's plan was put into action. Every morning at 8:00 Maria and Liz would cross a four-way intersection with Max, Michael, Valenti and myself positioned on all four sides, waiting to see the strange man. The first day we tried it, it didn't work. Max said that we would have to give it time. A week went by and we still didn't get any activity.

Then, one Tuesday morning, our 10th try, we made some progress.

"Liz," I had heard Maria say, "isn't that Mr. Clark?"

"Yeah, I think so," Liz had told her, "what's your point?"

"Mr. Clark the nice old guy who owns the candy shop, Mr. Clark who had a heart attack and died last month!" Maria exclaimed.

I looked around frantically, and then I spotted him, the strangely dressed man. I looked at Michael and nodded, he nodded back, signaling that he saw him too. Michael nodded to Max who nodded to Valenti. Then, all four of us ran to the stranger. We aliens held out our hands, ready to attack; Valenti aimed his gun at him.

"Let's go some place a little more private and have a talk," Valenti told the mysterious figure.

He looked doubtful that any of us were dangerous holding out are hands. Michael shattered the bulb in a streetlight with his powers. That got him to go with us to an alleyway where there weren't too many people around.

"We need to ask you a few questions," Valenti explained. The man did not speak.

Max took over from there, "There have been sightings of dead people walking the streets looking very much alive, but not quite themselves. Each of these sightings has one thing in common; you've been there – every time. How can you explain that?"

The man just stood there, not attempting to speak. We had him cornered; he wasn't going anywhere.

After a few moments, Michael stepped forward, holding his hand at the man, ready to use his powers again, "Answer the question!" he demanded.

Finally, the strange man who was wearing sunglasses as well as black trousers, a brown trench coat, and a gray hat inhaled. His mouth opened and Michael stepped back; ready to hear what this strange looking character had to say.

**__**

To Be Continued


	4. Confusion

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you're reading this, then I really would appreciate a review

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you're reading this, then I really would appreciate a review. I kind of started to wonder, "How am I going to get them out of this?" and I had thought that nobody was still reading it, so I just sort of set it aside. But then I got an encouraging review. I have many new ideas, and can mold the story at this point (after this latest chapter) to what my valued readers want. I tend to make things pretty weird, but things can go either way. Tell me what you think of this! I am appreciative of any feedback, positive and negative both equally valuable.

As the strange man was about to begin talking to us for the first time, I remember that he looked over at me as he tilted his head for a moment. I looked into his eyes and saw a flash in them, a sort of glimmer. As if the bright light from a lighthouse bounced off a reflective surface for a moment as it swung around. After we exchanged this very brief look, he straightened his head out again. We actually heard a sound come out, as words were soon to follow.

"Wait," I cautioned, and the man quickly shut his mouth. I had not taken my eyes off him since seeing the glimmer. Looking at him closely, I saw something, something that didn't look quite right. It was a large protrusion on his neck, sticking out like a big lump. His high collar covered most of it, but it was there. If I hadn't known any better – of course with everything we had gone through from the other pods, to the summit meeting, to Tess's betrayal – I'm not sure that I ever really _do_ no better anymore – but it looked like a venom sac. Something you might find on a spider or a snake maybe. It hung there, and as he moved his head, I thought that the strange man's protrusion had something in it. I had no way to be sure because I'm not good at those kinds of science and medical things. They sort of gross me out, but I know I have to be strong. I set aside my so-called "instincts" for being brought on by fear, and tried to look at this skin apparition for what it could really be. Fear and doubt can be good and healthy, and instincts should always be trusted. I know that now, but then, then fear and doubt ruled my life.

"What?" Max asked me, surprised by interruption and why not? This bizarre character was about to speak and I prevented him from doing that.

"That," I said, pointing to his neck. At first Max and Michael looked at him (Valenti had stepped back to let we aliens deal with our problems), they didn't see it. They looked at me, but, seeing the earnestness in my face, they looked back at him. Then it was clear.

Michael took a step back, still facing the man who held our complete attention. "What is it?" he asked.

Max got a look of curiosity on his face. He stepped forward. "Open your mouth,"

The man did and an inch thick acid-like spray came shooting from his mouth! It was a frightening moment – I was terrified. I ducked and screamed in terror! Max put up his green shield barrier and it deflected the spray. I know now that is what happened, but at the time I wasn't looking to see it.

The man looked at us strangely. He seemed just as surprised as we were at his shooting that spray, except he was surprised to see Max's power. He looked to Michael, I feared another attack, but I let Max be the judge of that. "I thought you had a weapon," he told Michael, his voice showing him to be shaken, "but this," he shrieked, directing his attention at Max, "What are you?"

Max gazed at him, "What are you?" My brother did not seem sympathetic to this person in anyway. Not to say that I was feeling for him at that moment, but I look back on the incident with mixed feelings of fear and sympathy. That, as so many things in this matter, would soon change.

"You answer my question first," the man said in terror.

"No!" Max yelled, stepping toward him, to corner him, an aggressive move. _What is he doing?!?_ I thought, _how could he just attack this frightened thing?_ It didn't make any sense, clearly this person, if he was a person, was nervous, and Max was breathing down his neck. That wasn't like Max, and I thought it was wrong.

I put my hand on his shoulder, "Max," I said, "he's terrified."

Max looked into my eyes for a second, then back at this man, "Is he?" he asked, more to himself than me, the man himself, or Michael, who was just standing there with his mouth gaping open. I think Michael was just as confused as I was here.

"I just want to know what you are?" the strange man pleaded.

Max looked at him for several seconds, then he blinked, and by studying his reaction I could tell, he had made a decision about something.

"You're lying," he told the man. I was shocked. It certainly didn't seem like he was lying. Of course, bad liars and Roswell, New Mexico aren't the best mix, but my mind seemed closed to that possibility.

"I…" the man started to plead, but Max wouldn't let him do it.

"You know who we are! You're stalling. Why?" Max demanded an answer, and the man full of mystery and intrigue knew it. Mystery and intrigue, yet for a while there I felt sympathy for him. Doubting that he was at all related to the strange sightings of the deceased.

The man looked up in terror, and allowed his gaze to pass out into the street. He stared for several seconds. Max started to become annoyed. Then the man smiled. 

"I was stalling," he said sinisterly, "waiting…"

"Waiting for what?" I said, a headache from all this deception. The twists and turns felt like a go-cart banging against the walls inside my mind.

"…For my army!" he said, sounding kind of like at little weasel, there was a high pitch in his voice. Something that didn't sound quite right – something that just didn't sound…human.

We turned to see that Valenti was gone. We saw Pete Reynolds, a farmer who died last year (He used to visit the elementary school, so we all knew him), another guy, who fit the description of Valenti's friend Dave Sanders, and someone who I wasn't expecting to see. Someone who I was kind of hoping to see and someone I couldn't bear to see. It was Alex. As the three of them entered the alleyway, I couldn't take my eyes off of Alex. And this time, I noticed a small sac on his neck. I hadn't seen it before. I made up my mind at that point that the person I saw, the person I was looking at, wasn't really Alex. I turned to face the mysterious man again, about to confront him about fooling all of us with people back from the dead. If they had those sacs, then they couldn't really be the people we all loved, cared about, and missed. Could they?

Before I could move, before I could react, the thought to be corpses took action. Pete got the jump on Michael and I heard him yell. Then, Max made a squeal as I saw Dave right behind him. Before I could confront the man who I felt was responsible for all of this, I noticed Alex behind me. Even though I knew he wasn't himself, I wasn't expecting me to grab me from behind. His left hand held my stomach, and his right hand went over my mouth. I tried to struggle, but couldn't. Almost as soon as his hand was placed over my mouth and nose, I began to feel really tired. I could almost sense the energy just draining out of me. I fought to stay awake, a struggle that would only last a few seconds. Then, I blanked out I guess because I don't remember anything else from the alleyway.

The next thing I recall is waking up, feeling very fuzzy. I was lying on my back, and as my eyes opened for an instant, I could see I was staring at a ceiling. The bright light in the room made my pupils burn so I quickly closed my eyes. My body felt stiff, as if I hadn't moved a muscle in weeks. I started stirring a little, trying to move around. Feeling the pain from stiffness, and my eyes watering from the light irritation, I began to moan.

"The first of them is awaking," I heard a voice call. It sounded faint and distant, but I wondered how accurate my hearing was. I definitely recognized it though. That squeaky, high-pitched screech, it could only be the strange man who was suspected of being behind all this. It hurt badly, but I forced my eyes to open and adjust to the light. Moments later the man was standing over me. 

"You," I said weakly, "get away from me!"

As my eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, another person came into view.

"Alex," I said very quietly, probably so quietly that the no one else could hear me.

"He's not so bad, Isabel. I know you're scared, but you shouldn't be frightened of him," Alex told me. I didn't notice at the time, but the strange man who I had feared, stepped away as Alex came in to comfort me.

I fixed my eyes on the sac attached to his neck. "It's not really you though, is it Alex? It can't be," I said, still feeling weak.

Alex looked down to find what I had been staring at. He tore off the sac. "Oh, don't let this fool you, Izzy."

I gulped, everything spinning around me like I was in a whirlpool. Thoughts, ideas, memories, I couldn't breathe, I needed someone to save me, someone to grab on to. All I could see was Alex.

"How can it be you?" I asked him, fighting to regain my strength, "You're dead!"

"Oh," said Alex coldly, a slight smile evident, "well, I think you're mistaken then. I'm not dead…" Dave and Pete stepped into my field of vision. "…We're not dead," Alex continued, "You are."

**__**

To Be Continued


	5. Sacrificial Attitude

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A note full of apologies. First, is the repeat of the last two paragraphs from the last chapter, but without looking at it, it's hard to understand, so that's why I repeated. Second, I'm sorry I took such a long break between new parts. Finally, I apologize that this chapter will be so short, but I need that way to get my bearings back on where I want the story to go. I will finish it though because I know some of you out there really like it, I promise.

"How can it be you?" I asked him, fighting to regain my strength, "You're dead!"

"Oh," said Alex coldly, a slight smile evident, "well, I think you're mistaken then. I'm not dead…" Dave and Pete stepped into my field of vision. "…We're not dead," Alex continued, "You are."

"I am?" I gasped. What was he talking about, it made no sense. "Well," I went on, the horror unmistakably present in my voice, "whether I'm dead and you're alive, or I'm alive and you're dead, we're not in the same realm. You can't be here!"

"Yes," Alex said to me, "but I am here, Izzy."

He placed his cold hand on my shoulder, and smiled. It wasn't an Alex smile, though. Not warm, and loving, but rather cynical, like some villain in an old science fiction film.

"See," Alex continued, "I can touch you, we are together here."

"And where is here, Alex?" I demanded of him.

"You just don't understand," he said thoughtfully.

"No," I screamed, "I don't! But I know that this can't be real! It, it can't be real!"

I held my hand up to my face, with the intention of using my own powers to kill myself. What did it matter? That's what I was thinking. What difference did it make now; the scariest nightmare that I could have had was coming true. I didn't know what was happening then, for all I knew it was a dream. All I knew was that I had no way out, and I couldn't get over Alex, not this way.

"Isabelle," Alex cautioned, "what are you doing?" It didn't take him long to figure out. "No," he went on, "you mustn't. Taking your life is no way out."

"I thought I was already dead, Alex." I said, emotionally drained.

So, I did it. I channeled all my power to my hand, which was directed at my own face, and let all my emotions pour out as my power.

My head fell thudded against the surface I was lying on, a cold, hard table. It was as if I blacked out, but my eyes remained open, and my vision became flooded with… white – just white. Not like a blur, or light coming from a distinct source, but just whiteness all around, like I my head was encased in a sphere painted white on the inside. I was also paralyzed, I couldn't move. At first, I could feel my backside pressing up against the table, but then all feeling ceased. After that, the bright white that had replaced my vision began to disintegrate. It was like the disintegration we saw from the shedding skins that were here a while ago, but slower. My mind was frantic, but my body was shutting down, and I knew that I didn't have the will power to get it going again.

**__**

To Be Continued…


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